


Father's Day

by sksNinja



Series: Couldn't Hate You If I Tried [5]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, Meeting the Parents, More awkward situations! Bless.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5129810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksNinja/pseuds/sksNinja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I gotta meet your dad you gotta meet mine."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was a trickier one for me to write but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out!
> 
> Edit: The love you guys have shown for this part fills me with flails of affection <3

Zeff was never satisfied with anything.  Ever since the incident at the “Father’s Day Buffet” Sanji had promised the world that from then on he’d be the one to cook Father’s Day brunch for the crotchety old man.  No sense in inflicting his shit attitude on anyone else.

Surprisingly, the old man had been pretty quiet this year, he’d hardly insulted the private home cooked meal, and only called him a ‘shitty little eggplant’ twice so far.  Perhaps he was finally finally starting to concede to his talents as a chef.

Sanji dared to smile as finished the last of his mascarpone and marmalade stuffed french toast.  Zeff paused, set his fork to the side, and cleared his throat.  Sanji’s smile tightened.  Heh, seemed it was wishful thinking after all.

Zeff crossed his arms over his chest and gave Sanji a calculating look.  “So,” he began slowly, his moustache twitching.  “What’s this I hear about a boyfriend?”

Oh.

* * *

 

“Tell me why we’re doing this again?” Zoro asked, leaning on the couch.

Sanji flipped the shirt to iron the other sleeve.  “I told you, my dad's gots it up his ass about meeting you and I’ll be damned if you show up in hobo clothes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sweatpants!” Zoro glanced over as Sanji fiddled with the one dress shirt he owned.  “I’m not wearing that damn thing.  What does it matter anyways?  Either he’ll like me or he won't’!”

“First impressions are important!”  Sanji lifted up the shirt, deeming it acceptable.

“Pshyeah, the first time I met you I thought you were a snarky blonde asshole.”  He sat up in mock surprise.  “Oh wait!  That’s still true!  Maybe first impressions matter after all!”  He leaned back down with a scoff, and stretched his arms over his head.

Sanji rolled his eyes, set aside the iron, and leaned down to kiss Zoro on the forehead.  “I still think you got the better end of the deal” he said.  “Zeff is grumpy but harmless.  I’m the one that’s got to spend the afternoon with your war obsessed father.”

“Eh," Zoro shrugged.  "He’s just that way about swords.  Besides, if I gotta meet your dad, you gotta meet mine.”  Zoro sat up to catch a kiss on the lips.  “But alright,” he conceded.  “I’ll wear the stupid shirt.”

* * *

 

Zeff watched as the man walked past the cafe’s door for a second time.  It was clear this was the person Sanji had described.  How many other “green-haired blockheads” could there be?  Why didn’t he just come in?  Surely he wasn’t _that_ intimidated by meeting him for lunch?  

Regardless, one thing was clear, this “Zoro” person was an idiot.

On his third pass in front of the entrance the man finally seemed to notice the door.  He stepped inside, and scrunched his face as he looked around.  Zeff raised a hand to wave him over lest the spinach-head get lost on the way to his seat.  

Zoro approached the table seemingly torn between offering Zeff a handshake or not.  He half raised his arm before apparently changing his mind and scratching the back of his head instead.

“You must be Zeff,” he started.  “I’m-”

“Zoro, I know."  Zeff interrupted sharply.  "You’re also late.  Now sit down.” 

Zoro seemed to bite back a response, and thumped into his seat.  The two sat for several minutes, saying nothing.  Each one sat staring intensely at the other, as though trying to solve some unknown mystery.

Zoro was the first to speak.  “So what’s with the mustache?”

Zeff guffawed openly.  “Ha!  You sit there practically sweating through your shirt, lookin’ like I’m about to start throwing knives at you, and that’s what’s running through your head?!”

Zoro cracked a smirk,  “Seemed like a safer topic than knife throwing,” he replied.  "Besides, you’re Sanji’s dad, that could very well be in the realm of possibility.”

“I treat my knives better than that,”  Zeff huffed and crossed his arms.  “Don’t tell me my boy flings his silverware across the kitchen when I’m not there to watch him?”

It was Zoro’s turn to chuckle.  “Heh, only the one time.  More often than not he just kicks me under the table and bitches about my manners.”  Zoro shifted the collar of his shirt.  “He’s the one that made me wear this stupid thing.  I feel like a dog in a pet show.”  Grumbling, Zoro undid the top couple buttons.

Zeff looked thoughtfully at the man as he purposely ruffled the shirt Sanji had no doubt ironed.  He was an idiot alright, but it seemed as if could give and take it with the best of them, and if he was planning on dating his little string bean, that would be important.  

Zeff kicked him under the table as their waiter approached.  “Stop fidgeting and give the man your order!”

Zoro grumbled something under his breath but Zeff chose to ignore it.

Zeff’s earlier _chat_ with Sanji had shown him how smitten the boy was with this boyfriend of his, and it had concerned him.  Sanji’s previous relationships tended to be obnoxiously over-affectionate and frequently one sided.  Yet, this was different.  For one Zoro was a man.  That was certainly new.  Not that that really mattered, in a way he’d been surprised it hadn’t happened earlier.  No, this had a different feel altogether.  If Sanji’s previous relationships were stale store-bought sprinkle cookies, then this one was homemade palmiers, dusted with sugar and baked to a golden brown.  There was substance to it.

Yet as best as Zeff could tell, Zoro was just as infatuated.  From his obvious nervousness and his attempts at polite conversation, the man was honestly trying.  Despite being uncomfortable with the situation, he was still there.  He paused to give his order to the waiter.  

Zeff turned back to look at Zoro as the man stiffened under his gaze. Could he trust his little brat to this idiot?  Perhaps only time would tell.

“So,” Zeff began with a casual tilt to his head,  “The little eggplant ever tell you the time he lit half his leg on fire trying to impress a girl?”

Zoro’s eyebrows rose in surprise before he leaned forward with a malicious grin.  “No, do tell.”

Yes, it seemed like this idiot might be good for his boy after all.

* * *

 

Boring. How droll.  Mihawk licked his thumb and turned the page of the magazine as it laid on the table.  Yet another article on something he couldn’t bring himself to care about.  It was all so tedious.  He glanced up at man across the table.  Oh, it seemed that Sanji fellow was speaking again.   He closed the magazine with a roll of his eyes.  May as well try to look like he gave a shit.  

“... and that’s when I found him barfing into the bushes a-heh…” Sanji laughed weakly.  

The blonde looked as though he was waiting for a response, but having missed a rather substantial part of the story Mihawk simply responded with a “humph.”

Mihawk glanced at his watch.  The food they'd ordered hadn’t arrived yet and he was bored out of his skull.  How long was this charade going to take?

The blonde across from him sat stiffly and was clearly irritated, but said nothing.  A common coward.  What did Zoro see in this boy?   Not that it really mattered.  His son could take care of himself.

Their food arrived and the pair began to eat in an impassive silence.  His mind wandered the number of other things he could be doing with his time.

Still, it was unusual.  First for Zoro to formally date at all, then not only introducing, but insisting they spend time getting to know each other.  

Mikawk gave Sanji a more thoughtful look.  Perhaps he was missing something here.  Sanji nearly flinched under the sudden gaze, attempting to force a polite smile as Mihawk looked him up and down.  Weak build, excessive effort into outward appearances, and obsessively polite.  No, he thought, the man was generally unremarkable.  

Sanji tapped his heel anxiously before attempting conversation once again.  “So what were you reading?”  He gestured at the magazine on the side of the table.

“Hmm?  Oh, a rather dull article on lawn care,”  he said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.  “Hardly interesting.”

Sanji's smile tightened, “ _Really_?  Given the way you’ve been ignoring me from nearly the moment I sat down I thought it _surely_ must have been captivating.”  Sanji turned to the side and drank from his glass, setting it down with a slight thump.

Was that thinly veiled sarcasm?  Was there was some bite to the boy after all?   Perhaps under all that mediocrity there was something of interest.  He'd have to push to see.

“Is that so?” Mihawk cracked a low smile.  “And how is this luncheon any more interesting than the effects of fertilizer on grass?” He calmly asked.

Sanji gripped the table as his expression flew from insulted to irritated, and then to Mihawk’s surprise, the boy raised his palms and laughed.  

“Blunt, egotistical, infuriating!”  Sanji paused and shook his head.  “You're a piece of work alright, I can see where Zoro gets it.”  The laughter died off as Sanji tipped his chair back to look at the ceiling.  “I swear, if they let me smoke in here I’d of gone through a pack and a half in the last hour.”

Nonchalant insults?  Someone who could potentially put Zoro in his place?  Mihawk leaned forward with interest.  Now they were getting somewhere.

Shifting his finished plate to the side, Sanji propped his feet up on the table.  “Fuck first impressions.  I give up.  I don’t know w-”

 *creeeeee-CRACK*

One of the back legs of Sanji’s chair gave way, and with all the flailing grace of an ostrich in flight, Sanji found himself placed oh so swiftly on the restaurant’s tiled floor.

Red-faced with anger and embarrassment, Sanji jumped to his feet and was about to give the remains of his chair a destructive kick when he was stopped by the sounds of deep unabashed laughter.

“AHAHaha! Magnificent!  Truly stupendous!”  Mihawk clapped his hands slowly as his laughter dropped to more acceptable levels.  “That look as you fell!  As though the world purposefully built your chair from cheap wood, and you were adamant to hunt down and destroy every chair maker in the city!”

Shaking his head Mihawk placed a few twenties on the table (more than necessary), and stood to leave.  He gave Sanji’s a light pat on the shoulder.  

“Sanji was it?  I’ll be sure to remember.”  And with a straightening of his coat, and a turn of his heel, he was gone.

* * *

 

Sanji opened Zoro’s front door to find the man himself shirtless and sprawled across the living room couch.  Zoro’s discarded shirt lay on the ground nearby.  

Zoro looked up from messing with his phone.  “Oh hey,” he said.  “How’d it go?  I got a message from my father saying-”  
  
“Stop.”  Sanji raised a hand.  “I don’t want to hear it.”  He kicked Zoro’s shirt onto his face.  “And don’t leave your clothes lying all over the place.”

“Oh?”  Zoro smirked as he flicked the shirt back onto the floor.  “I thought you liked it when I wore less clothing?”

“Hmph,” Sanji grinned.  “Only when I’m the one peeling them off of you.”  He leaned in for a kiss, sliding a hand up Zoro’s exposed side.

“You know…” Zoro began.  Sanji froze as Zoro’s eyes shone.  “Your dad had some interesting stories to share…”

“UHG!”  Sanji stood up and dramatically threw himself into the armchair.  “Of course you two would get along!”  He turned to glare at Zoro.  “I make a fool of myself in front of Mr. Gothic Fancy-hat, and you get to spend lunch making fun of me.”

Zoro sat up on the couch, “Oh don’t worry, he picked on me plenty.”  He reached to rub at his shin.  “He hits decently hard with that fake leg.”

Sanji’s scowl diminished.  “Besides.”  Zoro added with mischievous smile.  “He made it very clear that the only one who can call you ‘eggplant’ or ‘stringbean’ is him.  He said that if I want to using food-related nicknames I gotta think of them myself.”  Sanji looked mildly appalled.

Zoro paused with a sly grin, “I was thinking ‘meatloaf’ might be a good one.”

Sanji pounced onto the couch and pinched Zoro repeatedly.  “If anyone’s a loaf here it’s you!  You stupid!  Horrible!  Idio-MMMPH”  Zoro flipped them both over and thrust his mouth onto Sanji’s.

Sanji’s anger melted as Zoro’s lips moved down his neck.  The cook was truly predictable.  Zoro didn’t know why the blonde got so worked up all the time.  He untucked Sanji’s shirt and pulled it over his head.  Fuck trying to undo all those goddamn buttons.

Sanji laughed softly, “I’ll never understand either of you.”

Zoro thought back to his father’s text and smiled.

_“Acceptable.  I expect to see him at Christmas.”_

 


End file.
